


She Likes That

by BloodEnvy



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 07:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15262062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: Set before "Dead Things".Unseasonably warm weather, a sick Slayer and we finally find out how Spike knows to “put a little ice on her neck… she likes that.”





	She Likes That

Buffy wandered through the cemetery, weaving her way idly through tombstones as she tried to ignore the lingering smell of the DoubleMeat fryers that she was starting to think was going to be permanent. God, she hated it there. It had been unseasonably warm over the last few nights, and being surrounded by the fryers and hotplates in the Doublemeat kitchen had been horrible.

_If I ever end up in hell,_ Buffy thought to herself wearily, _the kitchens at the Palace are going to be remodelled down there to be my own personal torture chamber._

She sighed, rubbing a hand on the back of her neck, wiping at the damp sweat clinging to her skin. She wasn’t feeling well. Dawn had just recovered from a bout of the flu she’d picked up at school, and now she was afraid she might have picked it up despite her keeping her distance from her runny-nosed sister.

She’d woken up that morning feeling like... well, crap. Over tired, stiff and sore, and her head had felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton wool or that stuff they put in ceilings to keep the heat in... insulation. But still, she’d forced herself to go to work like a good little employee and had barely made it through the day on cold and flu meds and the cheap, watered down orange juice they served there.

She couldn’t even look at the free burgers she’d earned.

Buffy paused tiredly, leaning against an old tombstone. Thanks to whatever she was getting ill with and the heat, she was feeling exhausted and more run down than usual- even with a double shift. Forcing someone to work sixteen hours straight was just inhumane. She’d changed before leaving work- partly because she didn’t want that smell lingering more than it had to during her other job, but mostly because she didn’t want the wider demon community to know that she was working in a fast food chain.

She fidgeted uncomfortably with her jacket as she pushed herself back onto the granite tombstone to sit. She finally pulled it off and dropped it to the ground before rubbing her eyes.

“Not to question your tactics, love, but won’t it be harder to see the demons coming if you’ve got your eyes closed?”

Buffy’s head shot up, startled. “Spike? Where in the hell did you come from?”

“Case in point,” he half-smirked with a chuckle as he stepped towards her. His hands were tucked deep in his duster pockets, head ducked slightly. The last few wisps of nicotine smoke trailed behind him, his cigarette butt left to die out on the ground. She’d noticed recently that his smoking habits had been considerably lessened over the last few weeks, at least around her.

_Guess he doesn’t want me getting cancer or smoker’s cough or something,_ she thought to herself. _It’s nice of him, I guess._ She admitted.

“You feeling alright, Slayer?”

Buffy sighed softly, fixing him with a slightly sarcastic half smile, “Peachy.”

She sneezed, wiping at her eyes again.

“Oh yeah, you’re bloody wonderful.” Spike eye rolled as her expression turned sheepish. There was a moment of hesitation before he stepped up to her, nudging her knees apart with one of his own. She gave him a look halfway between disgust and disbelief even as her legs moved to accommodate him. He rolled his eyes at her expression before fixing his gaze on her face.

He ran a hand over the side of her face, brushing away the hair that was sticking in strands to the light sheen of sweat covering her skin. She whimpered lightly in pleasure at the cool touch, leaning into it. Spike’s lips turned up in a self-mocking smile.

“You really mustn’t be feeling good, pet.” He chuckled. “You’re delirious.”

She shoved him lightly, and his right hand trailed down her neck to rest on the curve where her throat met her collarbone, his fingertips dipping under the fabric of her shirt. His left hand came up to cover her forehead, his frown returning. “You’re burning up.”

Buffy groaned in response. “I don’t feel so good.”

She stiffened instinctively as his hand moved down her face to her throat, relaxing slightly as it moved to the back of her neck. She sighed gratefully. Everywhere his hands moved her heated skin felt relieved. She felt like she should push him away... she always did at first... and this felt more intimate than their... well, intimate moments. But she felt so hot... and he was so cool.

“You gonna hurl?”

“No...” Buffy shook her head indignantly. She resisted the urge to fall against him, instead only leaning into his hand as it trailed down her arm. Still, she kept her voice haughty as she spoke. “It’s hot.”

Spike smiled. She was trying to sound distasteful, but it was a weak effort. Stepping back, he picked her jacket up off of the ground. “Come on, love. You’re not going to be killing anything tonight. Let’s get you home.”

 

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

 

Buffy sat with a sigh on the steps to the porch, looking out over the backyard with unfocused eyes. She tugged off the jacket he had insisted she’d wear on the way back and wrapped her arms loosely around herself despite the heat. Spike watched her for a moment before stepping up to her, a concerned tilt to his head.

“You feeling any better, pet?”

Buffy shrugged noncommittally, glancing over at him. “A little. I think the walk helped. But it’s... it’s too hot. How can it be so freaking hot? It’s early spring for craps sake.”

Spike chuckled, sitting down next to her- the distance between them small enough to be decidedly intimate while being far enough apart for her to be comfortable. He shrugged, his fingers playing with his half-empty pack of cigarettes. He wouldn’t light up when she was sitting so close, but after smoking for over fifty years, he always had a packet of cigarettes with him. Vampires didn’t suffer the easy addiction like humans did, but they still found the mentholated smoke calming the way the living did.

She glanced at the cigarette packet and gave him a nod of permission. He smiled, but tucked them back into his pocket anyway.

“Is there maybe a demon of heatstroke running rampant through the streets of Sunnydale I haven’t heard about?” Buffy asked, smirking at him as he rolled his eyes.

“Nothing demonic this time, love. Would’ve heard something around Willie’s the last few nights if it was,” He glanced up at the sky, studying it. There was the tiniest hint of pink staining the black of night, but they had a few good hours before morning threatened to... well, kill him. “Just the bloody weather bollicking things up I think, pet.”

“Well, the weather sucks ass.” Buffy pouted, frowning at nothing.

He laughed. “Where’s your key, Slayer?”

“What?”

“Your key,” Spike repeated, giving her a sidelong glance. “Where is it?”

“Why?” Buffy’s hand instinctively covered her pocket. He remained silent, and she turned to meet his eyes. Those blue, blue eyes... Sighing, she pulled it out, handing it over with a disgruntled expression. “I don’t want to go inside.”

He stood, smiling down at her. “Then wait here, love. I’ll be back.”

 

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

 

Buffy reopened her eyes as she felt Spike sit down beside her, stiffening slightly. She kept her eyes down, away from him, and he hesitated before reaching into the bowl in his lap.

Buffy gasped as something cold met her skin, icy against the heated flesh of her shoulder. She felt cool fingers brush against her, pulling her shirt gently to expose her collarbone. “Just relax, pet. Gonna make you feel better.”

She opened her eyes as he dragged the piece of ice in his hand slowly along her collarbone, leaving a trail of freezing water behind it. The water dripped slowly over her shoulder, drops falling down to hide under her shirt and leave marks on the thin cotton. As it did, the fingers of his right hand danced along her other shoulder and her neck, light pressure soothing away the stress left over from the work she’d done.

Buffy sighed softly, tilting her head to the side slightly in invitation. Spike’s lips turned up slightly at the gesture, responding with a squeeze to her shoulder and a dip of the ice, sliding it over her chest before moving it up to her other shoulder.

“Better?”

Buffy gave him a small, good natured smirk. “Much. Now, less talk-y, more ice-y,” Her eyes slid closed.

Spike grinned. “Bossy little chit.” She nudged him playfully, gasping as the ice found her neck. She cooed as it lingered there, nodding in approval. He left the ice sitting against the back of her neck, his fingertips pushing soft circles down her arm to the palm of her hand. Her fingertips closed over his hand lightly for a moment as his finger traced her lifeline.

The ice melted away against the back of her neck, the freezing water that was left behind soaking into her shirt. She shivered as the vampire next to her reached for the bowl for a second time. She watched him as he tended to her, his gaze careful, concentrated, following his hand as it traced the arch of her neck with the ice, barely whispering against her jaw line. It slid around to the front of her neck, melting against the hollow of her throat.

She watched him swallow heavily as the droplets of water skated slowly down her chest into her cleavage, disappearing between her breasts. His gaze was like fire, burning against the cold water, the heated flesh. She shivered again.

He looked up as she did; meeting her eyes and Buffy leaned forward, wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him. She felt him freeze slightly, caught by surprise, before he grinned against her mouth, moving into the kiss. It was tender, searching to begin with as she bit lightly at his bottom lip.

He leaned forward, his duster fanning out as he moved to hover over her, his knee moving between hers. She leaned back on her elbow as he pressed forward, her other hand still wrapped firmly around his neck, tangling into the soft, soft hair at the nape of it. He leaned over her, running his tongue over the seam of her lips as he pushed his weight onto his hands, bracing them on either side of her. She was sitting at the very edge of the porch, her feet planted on the steps. His knee rested between them, and he ran a hand up her thigh towards her knee.

Buffy sighed against him as he cupped her cheek, meeting his tongue eagerly with her own as he pushed it sensuously into her mouth. The sigh turned to a moan as he tangled his fingers in her hair, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

“Buffy...”

Spike moved back incrementally, dragging her lower lip with his teeth for a moment. She moved forward instinctively, seeking out his touch. His hand remained in her hair though, and she could feel the last drops of icy water running under her clothes.

“Spike... can we just... not think?” She asked him, meeting his eyes. “My brain’s a puddle and I—“

Spike’s mouth was on hers before she could finish her quip. His lips attacked hers with more passion than before, moving over to run kisses over her cheeks and jaw, lathing the cool attention of his tongue over the column of her neck.

_Better than an icepack,_ Buffy thought hazily, her lips parting as he moved to fit his hips between her thighs. She moved to accommodate him as if it was second nature. She felt his budding erection pressing against her, and she rubbed against him teasingly. He groaned.

_Much, much better..._

Buffy used both her elbows as support as Spike’s mouth found her neck again, kissing and biting and licking his way down to her collarbone. He pulled at her shirt to reach the skin there fully, and she guided his hands down to tug it up over her head, trembling pleasantly as his hand brushed against her breasts.

“No bra, Slayer?” Spike smirked, his tongue curling behind his teeth. One hand came up to trace the curve of her left breast, from the top to the underside, his hand lingering underneath before moving to cup it. “Feeling daring, are we?”

“Oh, shut up.” Buffy rolled her eyes, determined to maintain the same easy bravado he was despite the tightening sensation in her stomach and the feel of her nipple hardening under his palm. Usually, the use of the nickname ‘Slayer’ was a turn off for her in the bedroom, or the crypt or the... well, porch, but it gave her a sense of womanly satisfaction and power as she felt his eyes on her exposed chest.

She felt his hand move away from her and she tried to keep the disappointed pout from her face, jumping as something freezing cold replaced it. Spike circled her breast with a new ice cube, leaving a watery path behind it as he moved closer and closer to the hardening nipple. Buffy’s chest heaved at the sensation, rising and falling as goose bumps spread over her skin. Her head fell back, open-mouthed as the ice finally found her nipple- now rock hard and begging for his attention.

“Oh my god...” She moaned as he leant down, his tongue following the trail the ice had left behind, his lips wrapping around her aching nipple as the last of the ice melted away and a new cube repeated the process on the other breast.

Spike had planted his knees on the step, and managed to use his free hand to help her out of her jeans. His fingers ran across the lace of her panties for a moment before he braced himself against the porch again, pressing a kiss to her jaw before lowering his mouth to her other breast.

“Spike... fuck. Oh, god...”

Spike kissed a line up the valley between her breasts before meeting her eyes, a devilish glint in his own. “You ever done this before, pet?” He asked, another ice cube circling her nipple. He dipped it lower, tracing the underside to indicate what he was talking about.

Buffy’s head jerked back, and she shook her head, biting her lip.

“Never once tried it...?” He spoke slowly, keeping his eyes locked with hers. The ice between his fingers slid over the taut muscles of her stomach, making her body shudder. “When you’re home alone... in the dark...?”

Buffy shook her head again as his free hand helped her slip off her panties, leaving her naked and exposed under the vampire’s gaze. “Never...”

“Have you ever thought about it?” Spike followed the line of her hips, teasing at her navel.

Buffy’s eyes fluttered shut briefly before she opened them, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Yes...” she breathed.

“Ever thought about... this?”

Buffy’s hips bucked up as the ice suddenly found her sex, running along her slit once and dipping into her entrance. She gasped, her arms finding his neck as the new feeling filled her, her back arching her against him. Spike chuckled as she clutched to him, moving the ice cube up and over her clit.

“Oh my... fuck, Spike!” A cry was caught in her throat, as she remembered her sister sleeping upstairs, and she bit down on his duster as he teased her clit. “Oh, god.”

Spike opened his mouth, no doubt with some cocky reply, but Buffy stopped him, pulling at his clothes almost desperately. He smirked kissing her throat before standing, guiding her legs together to hold the rapidly melting ice cube against her molten core. She watched as he slowly removed his clothes, his eyes remaining on hers. Those bright blue eyes. She felt herself tremble as he removed his boots and his jeans, icy water dripping down between her legs.

His body covered hers again almost immediately after all his clothes were removed, and his mouth found her body only seconds after that. She shifted underneath him, to roll them, but he grabbed her wrist.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, kitten.” He told her, kissing the tender flesh behind her ear. “Let me take care of you.”

Any protests Buffy could have made died away as he kissed his way down her body, stopping only to tease nipple and navel on the way. Buffy held her breath as he made his way lower, his mouth kissing her mound before he paused, looking up at her.

“Do you think about me, love?”

“Huh?”

“When you touch yourself, do you think of me?” Spike asked, his fingers resting on her thighs. He rested his chin on her mound, like it was the most natural, normal thing in the world.

Buffy hesitated for a moment, blushing. “Yes.”

“How long?”

“Since... A while.” Buffy answered, her gaze away from his.

“Since the soldier left?” He guessed quietly. His fingertips slid over her skin, the watery trails on her stomach teasing her.

There was a pause before she replied. “Be... Before. Since you got back.” She could feel her cheeks burning.

“Back to Sunnydale? With the Gem?” Spike’s tone was disbelieving despite the hope in it. “Two years ago?”

Buffy nodded.

Spike’s face broke out into a wide grin, and before Buffy could say anything else, he was feasting on her. She moaned as his tongue lathed her sex, curling around her clit as his fingers found her entrance. He sucked and flicked at her clit, teasing her as he used his free hand to throw her leg over his shoulder, surprising her with another freezing ice cube. He slid it between her folds, using his mouth to hold it against her clit for a few pleasure-filled moments before pushing it slowly inside her.

“Spike! Fuck... Oh my god!” Buffy grabbed at his head, her fingers twisting in his hair as she felt him grin against her pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of her, moving the ice within her. He curved two fingers as she began to move against him, biting softly at her clit. Reading her intake of breathe as a positive find, Spike pushed the quickly melting ice cube against her g-spot, and Buffy bit hard into her fist as she came with a shout.

Spike was already up her body and kissing at her throat by the time she came down, his hands dancing over her body. They tickled at her breasts, lingering at her thighs and hips. She pulled his face towards hers, sighing as their lips met. His tongue rolled against hers as his hand found her hair tenderly, curling in the strands by her ear.

She felt the head of his erection against her as he deepened the kiss, and slowly wrapped her legs around his waist, guiding him in.

They both exhaled happily as he sunk to the hilt.

Spike moved slowly, swivelling his hips with every thrust, making her moan and sigh with each movement. Her own hips rose to meet his eagerly, but for once she let him set the pace. It was leisurely, caring and intimate. His forehead rested against hers for a moment before she turned her head to press open-mouthed kisses to his collarbone and shoulder, and he buried his face in her hair.

Buffy gritted her teeth as he picked up the pace steadily, the muscles of her stomach jerking as a new piece of ice found her skin. _How much ice did he bring?_ The thought crossed her mind briefly as his hand dragged it over her navel and up over her cleavage, circling each breast once before moving to touch it to her neck.

Her eyes widened as the ice found the nape of her neck, and she moved to kiss him again, smashing her lips to his. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders and grasped for his face, ruffling his hair. Spike doubled his efforts, his back tensing as his hips crashed down against hers, the sound of their heavy breathing and the slap of skin against skin filling the air. His fingers found her clit as the ice melted away into nothing, and he angled his hips again, deepening the penetration.

Buffy felt her stomach tighten, and she arched up against him, her body pressed against his. It didn’t matter that the hard wood of the porch was making her back ache, or that two young women- her sister and her best friend- were asleep upstairs, or that they were doing it in the open... Buffy felt nothing but the intense pleasure of Spike pressed up against her, inside her, his mouth moving over hers, over her skin.

“Spike... fuck, I’m gonna...”

“It’s alright, kitten,” Spike kissed her forehead eagerly before finding her lips again. “I’ll follow you.”

“No! To... together.” She met his eyes as the first shudder of her orgasm roll through her. She wrapped a hand around his neck, pulling him against her. “Come with me, Spike.”

At the sound of his name falling from her lips and the feel of her walls tightening around him, he inhaled sharply, and Buffy smashed her lips to his as they both shouted out in release, tumbling together through oblivion.

They froze as they came down, listening for any movement in the house, and Spike stared down at her, his expression warm as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Feel better, pet?”

Buffy smiled, pressing an uncharacteristically affectionate kiss to his lips. “Better than ever.”


End file.
